


Bentley and Co

by miscfics (twowritehands)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Friends to Lovers, I'm thrilled there is already a tag for this pairing, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, magic shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27799216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowritehands/pseuds/miscfics
Summary: This love story is about pining, longing. It's about two powerful entities unable to cross the space between them for nearly a century, suddenly able to say hello. To smile. To touch.
Relationships: The Bentley/The Bookshop (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Bentley and Co

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this months ago and have been too shy to post it
> 
> This is the very first F/F fic I've ever written! I mentally cast Pheobe Waller-Bridge as the Bentley and Jodie Whittaker as the bookshop.

Since the bookshop opened in the 1700s, it has had the ability to run itself, freeing Aziraphale from the pesky chores. The magical interface program doesn't work if he is in the shop, but the rest of the time, she is there. Dusting shelves, alphabetizing, controlling the temperature and humidity to protect the old parchments. Her work is never done, and she has never, in 300 years, taken one step outside. She can't. 

Her name is Co, like on the sign out front.  _ A.Z. Fell & Co.  _

Everything was jolly for the first two hundred years. She enjoyed her job and her angelic master. She understood love, but she never felt it within her chest as it was described in countless books. Then, one day, she saw the most beautiful thing through the window. 

The Bentley. Black steel, sleek curves, and an engine that made the shop windows tremble. It looked rather coquettish with her black-out regulation headlight covers. 

It parked on the curb, just feet away from the storefront. A gentle morning breeze pushed the engine's warmth against the shaded side of the building. 

Co stared, gulped.

The car doors opened, and out stepped her master. Aziraphale was clutching a satchel of books. His hair was ruffled, his lower lip a deep cherry red. Mr. Crowley got out and leaned against the idling car as they spoke. Neither seemed ready to part ways, but no one suggested Mr. Crowley come inside, either.

When her master finally  _ did _ come inside, the car roared with power and took off in a way that gave Co breath. See, she never usually breathed. There wasn't any point for a bookshop interface to have lungs, but the sight of the Bentley taking the corner on two wheels inspired her to live a little more….

For the next 78 years, that car rolled by on a daily basis, reminding Co what it was to breathe. It didn't always stop, but Co knew it by the unique sound of the engine. Car design changed to smaller, ugly things. Not the Bentley. She stayed perfect. 

Co always managed to see out a window in time to watch it effortlessly snake through traffic. No matter the time of day, sunlight always glinted off the silver hood ornament, like a secret little wink.

:::

For the Bentley, life was about  _ speed _ . Obviously. Nothing like an open road--or enough space to squeeze through, anyway. Where her master wanted her to go, she went. She may have been bigger and less aerodynamic than all these modern atrocities, but nothing could out-perform her when it came to pleasing master Crowley.

He kept her purring and filled with music. It didn't get any better than this, she thought. 

But life was also about home. Her home--in so far as cars had places that felt safe--was outside a little shop in Soho.

Z. Fell & Co was unlike any other address in the world. This building radiated with love. It seemed to welcome her home. Not even the garage at the flat, which technically was where she lived, ever did that.

It was the only building that didn't stay on its street. The Bentley had been quite alarmed to discover one day that the idea of the bookstore lingered, even after it was gone from the rear view. No other building had ever had that effect on the car before. It made the Bentley think that, maybe, being on blocks wouldn't be the worst thing. If it was in a warm, beloved spot like that.

It certainly wasn't bad whenever master Crowley parked her there for a few nights. She would nestle against the curb and pass the time really getting to know the shopkeeper interface.

"Look at that, " Co said once, gazing longingly out the window as their masters strolled off down the street hand in hand. Her eyes were on the city, not the angel and demon. She revved like humans do, a bellow of air that fluttered the golden tendril of hair against her cheek. "What I wouldn't give to take a ride around London…"

What Bentley wouldn't give to speak back, just to offer it….

:::::

In Tadfield, Adam could feel his powers fading. His ability to alter reality was slipping through his fingers. He had to make the most of it while he could. He wanted to fix things.

So he did his best to make absolutely everyone happy. 

::::

That was how it came to be that Bentley woke up one day totally human. Standing in the street, with two legs, two arms, a head with the usual features. She had hands. Fingers. Feet with toes visible in the strappy heels and knee length, flapper style dress she wore.

"What the fuck?" she asked,  _ with a voice _ . She turned a circle. She suddenly couldn't see to the rear, at all. Major design flaw there, for humans. She didn't have her trunk, her seats, her wheels. Not even one single wiper blade. 

She felt her fleshy body, the smaller engine thumping in her ribcage. What happened to her frame?

Scared, she took off. Walking was slow. Tedious. Running was only slightly better. But she had to get help. 

Master Crowley lived somewhere above the street. She wasn't sure exactly where, and frankly, she didn't want to pound on random doors until she got it right. She was a Bentley for crying out loud. Composure and style were everything.

She knew exactly where to go for help. 

:::

Something crashed rather hard into the locked door of the bookshop. Co looked up from the inventory list with a frown. It was a rather adorable young woman wearing a black leather jacket over a gray vintage dress. She looked somehow familiar. Her feathered hat fluttered in the breeze, and her silver framed glasses glinted in the sunlight. 

Co  _ breathed _ \-- and then gasped with recognition. "No. Impossible!"

The young woman pressed herself against the door glass. "Can I come inside, please? Something's happened."

"Bentley? Is that you?"

Co unlocked the door with a wave of her hand. Bentley swayed on her heels, but then composed herself and strode inside. Co was frozen in shock. Had Crowley decided to give the Bentley a magical interface? And to what purpose? Wasn't the point of having a car to drive it yourself?

"You're… not a car."

"I don't know what happened. One minute I'm on fire, and I explode. Then I wake up on the curbside looking like this! I didn't know where else to go!"

Co had had to deal with very few crises in her lifetime, but after burning to the ground the other day, this one was more of a hiccup. Easily handled by keeping a cool head. 

Even though the rest of her body was behaving quite strangely, to be sure. She felt warm in unusual places, wet in others. And the breathing thing had evolved. Now something was thumping hard in her chest. She had never had a heartbeat before. Were they all this loud?

All in all, this was a good thing, wasn't it? Or it would be, once Bentley calmed down and saw the positive side of being human. ...how lucky, Co thought before mentally sidestepping jealous thoughts.

"Alright. Sit. Sit down," Co ordered the beautiful motorress. "We will get to the bottom of this, my dear. Don't worry."

Bentley plopped with uncoordinated movement into a straight backed chair at the desk. She wriggled her feet and then poked her knees, face equal parts curious and distraught.

Co rolled up her thick sweater sleeves and began searching the bookshelves for any information that applied to the situation.

There were a few books covering automobiles, but nothing on the transition from car to person. However, humanity was rather the entire point of literature. She began in the nonfiction section. 

To name but a few:

  * A Treatise of Human Nature
  * Beauty, Its Attainment and Preservation
  * The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, and Manual of Politeness: A Complete Hand Book for the Use of the Lady in Polite Society



Co had just added How to Stay Alive In the Woods to the massive stack in her arms when she realized she was being stared at. 

Bentley's large expressive eyes tracked her every movement. Then she blinked and smirked.

"Hello."

"...Hello." Co rasped.

They stared into each other's eyes for some time. It was remarkable to speak to someone when, for decades, words were never needed. Now suddenly they had the English language at their disposal. Not to mention body language. Co felt as if she had finally lifted the cover on a beautiful book and began to read the first page. 

Everything Bentley did revealed her inner thoughts. She was still rather dubious of her knees and elbows. She liked her fingers, and her curly hair. When she realized her glasses were removable, her lips slanted with approval. 

Co practically read her mind. Bentley was thinking:  _ at least I still have windshields.  _

A strange sound broke the comfortable silence. A low, gurgly rumble.

Bentley looked at her stomach, alarmed. "Something's wrong with my fuel tank."

"You're hungry."

"Oh. Do you get hungry?"

"No. But my master keeps his food upstairs."

"Can you go upstairs?"

"Yes."

"But it's not the shop. You aren't meant to leave the shop."

"It is technically a flat, yes, but my master keeps quite a bit of inventory stored up here. The really good stuff. So I have access."

"I've never been off street level. Not in 90 years…."

They gathered the books and headed up. Co led the way, hitching the hem of her 18th century skirt to navigate the stairs safely. They went through a door marked Private Residence. 

It had antique furniture, polished wood floors, and plenty of natural light. And of course, several glass cases full of priceless treasures. 

"Goodness, look at the view!" Bentley dumped the books pell-mell on the table and hurried to the open window. She visited every window as Co put together a tea tray. 

While the water boiled, she dug up a few more books that might be relevant.

"Here we go. This should give you a good start on what to do as a person."

Bentley finally pried herself from the windows and took a seat. She frowned at the books. Opened the cover and flipped through the pages. "I can't read."

"What?"

"I'm a car! I read traffic. I read lights and pavement. I even read the weather but wriggly shapes on paper mean nothing to me."

"Of course."

"When is Aziraphale due back?"

"Any time between now and July. He's never been gone longer than that."

Another silence fell.

It was familiar, and therefore comforting, to just sit together and commune the old way. Co had no complaints. She loved works of art, and the Bentley was a masterpiece in any form, apparently.

A wicked smile curled the corners of Bentley's mouth. She liked being looked at, fawned over. Her eyes flicked to the space between their hands.

Co's heart leapt. And then they were touching; Bentley's hand on hers. 

They smiled warmly at one another, and passed several minutes with both palms pressed together, gentle pushes and pulls. Communing. Learning. 

Co could tell Bentley still wasn't sold on this person gig yet. She missed her tires, her gears, and her mirrors. Dusty old books would not have the solution.

Co needed to think of a way to help, but every time she made eye contact with Bentley, her mind went blank. Her belly fluttered. 

What was happening to her?

She was a bookshop interface for crying out loud. She was literally designed to Problem-solve. To aid customers ...but then send them away. She was never supposed to let anyone upstairs. That was the crux of it. 

Co was off book here. Lost and spinning into the unknown. But she was… excited about it. 

Because this was  _ Bentley _ . Her friend Bentley. And she had come to Co for help. The honor of being that important overrode previous directives. She would do anything to help Bentley feel safe. 

The tea whistled. 

Co poured out two cups. It just felt right to join Bentley, rather than sit and watch her drink alone. 

Plus, a hot cup of tea was an essential part of the bookstore environment. Why was it not in her coding all along?

"Careful, it's hot," she warned as she set it in front of Bentley. 

Bentley copied her way of cradling the warm cup and blowing on the liquid. This was all behavior Co knew from watching her master for centuries.

After plucking up the nerve, Co took the first sip. Flavor burst on her tongue, a zang that she felt in her toes.

A moan slipped right out of her like a loose page. Whoa this stuff was amazing!

Bentley's perfect eyebrows quirked, and she took a sip too. Her eyes lit. She licked her lips. "Wow!"

"It's wonderful!"

It was Bentley who tried the first biscuit. It crumbled and stuck to her lips as she chewed. Co caught herself leaning nearer, thoughts on getting a taste from those sugary lips. 

Bentley zeroed in on her, and her happy smile turned wicked. "There's something the angel and demon have done a lot in my backseat that I've always… wondered about."

Co had to try twice to say, "Oh? What's that?"

She knew, obviously. Aziraphale and Crowley sometimes climbed out of the Bentley as rumpled and sated as they looked after their… frolicking in the back room. 

Bentley grabbed Co by the chin and pressed their lips together. At first it was just contact. New and unusual. But then it was warm and soft. And then she breathed into it, and it was like a spark into a tender box. 

The next thing Co knew, Bentley was in her lap, legs wrapped around her as the kisses grew deeper and deeper. The gray dress was crimped up to her hips, and Co's hands were underneath. 

She couldn't believe this was happening. Her Bentley had a body. A beautiful, amazing body that she could touch. 

Her skin was as smooth and unblemished as the car's paint job always looked. She was soft. Lush. Responsive. 

More than once Bentley's kisses were interrupted by a gasp of surprise or a shudder of pleasure as Co applied knowledge from the banned book section. Bentley's moans were as full bodied as her engine revs had been, but her cry of ecstasy was sharp and shy as she spasmed around Co's fingers. It was such a joy evoking these beautiful human sounds, Co wasn't thinking about anything else--

And then Bentley slipped her fingers beneath the baggy sweater and undid buttons on her blouse. Co gasped at the silky touch to nipples she never knew were there. They hardened, just like in the books.

Bentley giggled and reached down to the hem of Co's skirt. Her hand settled on Co's ankle, and trailed up to her knee. Then over her thigh. By this point, Co was shaking uncontrollably.

It was possible the magic adapted the interface as needed. A customer wanted to touch a quivering clit and so, wa-lah. At your service.

"Th-thank you," Co choked. Maybe it was a weird thing to say right then, but she meant it. She was so thankful for the breathing, the heartbeat, now this. She felt like she could sing.  _ Thank you for always giving me life.  _

Bentley smirked in total, miraculous understanding and gave her a kiss as her fingers delved further….

It felt amazing. Wet, hot, somewhere between tingly and ticklish--Co begged for more until the building sensation climaxed. She screamed with pleasure and joy, clinging to Bentley's thin shoulders as her body shuddered in raptures.

They giggled and communed without words as they explored each other until the tea was cold and ruined.

***

The downstairs doorbell chimed and voices filled the shop. Loud. Co and Bentley hastened back into their clothes.

Crowley was furious, shouting, "When I find who took her, I will  _ gut _ them! How  _ dare _ they steal my car!"

Co and Bentley hurried downstairs. 

"Crowley, it's okay I have her!" Co announced happily. 

Both men froze. Aziraphale was half out of his jacket, jaw slack. Crowley was hunched, teeth gnashed in anger. But his seething rage drained quickly into a dumbfounded expression. "Have who? Who the blazes are you?"

Co smirked, "I'm…" she trailed off as she finally realized that her master was home. She shouldn't be here. 

"I'm Co. I run the shop."

Aziraphale moved slowly toward her. "Yes. You do. But you're... here. And I'm here!"

She pointed, dazed, at her friend. "Yes. So is the Bentley."

Bentley winked at the masters. "Hiya."

Crowley did a double take. " _ Human _ ? Hang on, who said you two could be human? You're a bookshop and a car! MY car!"

Bentley shrugged. "I woke up like this. I don't know what happened!"

Co did not have an answer, too shocked to consider herself as human as Bentley.

Angel and demon looked at each other and spoke one word in unison. "Adam."

"He did this?"

"It seems he performed a lot of miracles for this new reality." Aziraphale said proudly.

"We have to find him and have it reversed," Crowley stated. 

"Do we?" Co asked. Something splintered in her chest.  _ No, no, _ she thought.  _ Not yet. _

"Well, yes. You're a bookshop. And a car. You're not meant to… oh Nevermind. I doubt he even can put it right. He is likely just a normal boy by now."

"So… what does that mean?" Bentley asked.

Aziraphale was beaming. "It means you need human names, and homes and jobs."

"I work for you. Can I live here?"

"Well," Aziraphale hedged with a nervous glance at Crowley, "It just isn't big enough for four of us, I'm afraid. "

Crowley smacked his lips. "You two take my flat."

"Really?" Aziraphale asked, aghast. 

"Angel, you're never really comfortable there. I'll stay here with you and they can go over there. Problem solved."

Co balked. " _ Leave _ the shop?"

Aziraphale's face rippled with empathy. Crowley already looked bored. "Haven't you ever wanted to?"

Too choked to answer, Co simply looked to her friend. 

Bentley beamed and took her hand. "Let's go."

  
  
  



End file.
